Chloe was waiting outside Il Giardino when Grissom pulled up in his car. She was wearing sleek black slacks and a camel-brown long-sleeved shirt with a V-neck. She was leaning up against a white Dodge Neon, the yellow light from Il Giardino's awning reflecting off her face. A child was clinging to her neck and a tall, lanky young man with feathered brown hair had his hand on Chloe's back.

Grissom parked his car down the lot from where Chloe and her family were standing. He got out, approached them slowly, not wanting to disrupt their moment. Chloe seemed like a natural mother. The way she held her son, the way her son clung to her like Velcro.

He didn't say anything until he was close enough to look into her eyes as he spoke to her. Her eyes were the color of autumn, like Rose's.

"Good evening, Chloe," he said.

Chloe flashed a smile, "Oh. Mr. Grissom…this is my boyfriend Walker and my son Shane. They won't be joining us, obviously. I just wanted them to meet you."

"Hello, Mr. Grissom," Walker said. He held out a hand for Grissom to shake.

"Gil, please," he answered as he shook Walker's hand. "And this is your son?"

"Our son," Walker corrected proudly.

"Shane," Chloe said. "Shane…this is Gil Grissom. He's a friend. Of Momma's."

Four-year-old Shane looked up at Grissom. His eyes were the same color as Chloe's, but his hair was wavy dark brown like Walker. He was timid; gave one look at Grissom and buried his face in Chloe's shoulder. Obviously Shane was uninterested in Momma's friend but Grissom was charmed and gave a rare smile for the young boy.

"Shall we?" Grissom said to Chloe.

"Yeah," Chloe unwound Shane from her neck and put him in Walker's arms and kissed both boys on the cheek before following Grissom into Il Giardino.

Standing inside as they waited for their table, Grissom couldn't help stealing glances at this girl, his niece. Yes, she was definitely Rose's daughter: hazel eyes, sandy hair and what his mother had called the "family mouth": thin, pale pink and expressive.

This was his niece. It was a word that left a strange taste in his mouth, an exotic dish, a rarity. He had a niece. And his niece had a son. And he was not only an uncle, but a great-uncle! Grissom was almost giddy and excited by this, toying with the idea of spending the holidays with Chloe and Shane at Thanksgiving and Christmas and perhaps birthdays, catching up on twenty-two year ridge of history.

Embarrassed, he quickly pushed the idea out of his mind. That wasn't like him, that wasn't what he expected out of life. He wanted to be alone, to concentrate on his work and continue being the best at what he did. He convinced himself slowly that he didn't need family and by the time he and Chloe were seated, Grissom considered her no more than a stranger.

Sara had picked a quaint Italian place, with cherry wood chairs and wood panels, green-and-white tablecloths, candles on the tabletops and Gentileschi and da Vinci prints on the wall. Opera played softly over the sound system.

"So, Chloe…" Grissom took a deep breath. Ask her questions, Sara advised him before he left. And be nice.

"So, Mr. Grissom," Chloe gave a shy smile and bit her lower lip.

Grissom himself gave a small smile, "You don't have to call me 'mister'."

Chloe blushed. "I don't know what else to call you."

His smile widened a bit. "Just Gil is fine," he assured her, not ready to have the title "uncle" bestowed upon himself.

"Okay," Chloe chucked. "Just Gil."

"And just Chloe."

"Yes."

There was a titter of nervous laughed and silence crept up on them like ivy.

"So, Gil," Chloe said, getting a taste of Grissom's first name. "Do I…do I remind you of Rose at all?"

Grissom pursed his lips and considered. Then he nodded. "Somewhat. You have her eyes and her mouth. But Rose and I had the same mouth, so I guess you have my mouth too."

Grissom surprised himself with how much he babbled. If this is what family did to you, he didn't like it.

"And you have her hair," Grissom concluded. "And her sunshiny demeanor."

"So I'm a lot like her?" Chloe asked happily.

"In a physical sense," Grissom shrugged. "What college did you go to? You did go to college, right?"

"Of course. I went to University of Phoenix."

"What did you major in?"

"Nursing. That's what I've always wanted to do, be a nurse. Ever since I was little. My dad got me a doctor bag and everything. I'll be starting nursing school in the fall."

"You're not so much like Rose after all, then."

Chloe was disappointed. She frowned, "Why?"

"Rose's ambition," Grissom admitted, "was to be Wonder Woman."

Chloe laughed out loud. "Does that make you Superman?"

"Ask my team, they'll answer that for you," Grissom replied. "Though I'm afraid I'd be compared more to the Green Goblin."

They shared a laugh and the waiter came by. They ordered drinks from the wet bar—white wine for Grissom and a Jack Rose for Chloe.

The newly reunited niece and uncle shared casual discussions, rediscovering themselves as they told story after story about their lives up until this point, trying to fill their relationship gap. They told stories about school, about jobs, about childhood.

Grissom found it increasingly easier to relate to Chloe about himself now that he'd discovered she was interested in the medical profession. He found his shell breaking as he spoke about collecting dead animals for "science projects", about his job at the morgue and mostly about his relationship with Rose. He told Chloe how he taught Rose how to ride a bike and not to be afraid of bugs. She was the only girl he knew confident enough to touch a spider or a cockroach and even kept some roaches as pets. It was her idea to get Grissom into racing them.

Grissom didn't tell Chloe, however, how he tried to prevent Rose and George's relationship and how much their mother despised George. Instead he told about Rose and him and their brother/sister rituals, like bedtime stories and how Rose would tag along on Grissom's bike rides to find road kill. Grissom even spoke briefly about one of his girlfriends he'd met quite by accident at college, a French Canadian beauty queen named Nicolette who had taught him the art of rappelling.

Chloe mainly told stories about her father, George. Most of what she told made Grissom think twice of all the bad things he or his mother ever said about him—he appeared to be a very loving father to Chloe. She recounted when, as a toddler, George would play country songs on his guitar for her and she would dance for hours. He had taught her how to play the guitar at the age of seven and trained her vocally at the age of nine. He worked at a ranch and taught her how to ride horses there, and taught her how to sew and cook.

Grissom began to feel regret about hating George so much as he listened to his niece speak so fondly of him. After describing the night George was killed in the car accident, Chloe changed directions and explained her complicated relationship with Walker and how at the early stages of their relationship he was controlling and verbally abusive. She swore he changed severely when she became pregnant with Shane. He was more gentle, hardly if ever raised his voice and swore never to hurt either Shane or Chloe.

"So where are you three living now?" Grissom asked, trying to ignore all thoughts of Nicolette, who was creeping back into his memories now that he'd resurrected her from the ashes.

"Oh, we're still in Arizona," Chloe said, playing with her glass tumbler. "We're actually in the house my father and I lived in. It's a nice place, lots of kids for Shane to play with. You should come and visit us some time," she added. "My mother is buried there."

Grissom nodded, pretending to consider. He didn't want to see Rose's grave.

"Now that I've found you," Chloe continued, "I'd like to meet my grandmother. Your mother. And my mother's, of course."

"I'm sure she'd like that," Grissom lied. He honestly didn't know what his mother would think of Chloe. He knew what she thought of George and Rose and their relationship, but Chloe was another level entirely. "She lives in Marina Del Rey, where Rose and I grew up. It's quite a drive."

"Maybe the two of us could go?"

"I'd have to take off from work…"

"Oh," Chloe sat back. "That's okay, I guess. Walker and I could—"

"I could go with you," Grissom jumped in. "I'd just have to take off from work. I don't really like to miss it, but I've got a few use-them-or-lose-them sick days."

"Walker and I will be in Vegas for two weeks. That's plenty of time."

"I suppose so."

Chloe then asked the question Grissom had been asking himself, "What do you think her reaction will be? Your mother, I mean. To me."

Uncertain, Grissom gave her his best possible answer, "She'll definitely be interested, that's for sure. She wasn't too…happy, shall we say, about your parents."

Chloe's eyes went downcast, "So I hear. My father used to talk about the trouble they went though to see each other. He thanked you, however, for helping their relationship."

"Thanked me?" Grissom was amused.

"He said that my mother used your window to sneak out of every night," Chloe said excitedly, like a child discovering top-secret information.

Grissom nodded, "It was the least I could do. I didn't want her breaking her neck climbing out her window."

"I guess you could call them Romeo and Juliet, huh?"

Grissom reached over and for the first time, made physical contact with his niece. "Yes, Chloe," he said, squeezing her hand that was resting on the table. "That's exactly what I would call them."